


Commonwealth Colorwheel

by sister_dear



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Character Study, Gen, all companions - Freeform, fallout companions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:26:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8107714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_dear/pseuds/sister_dear
Summary: The world is black. Endless tunnels, flickering lights in the darkness. Death beckoning the unwary closer, bidding them ignore the smell of rot and decay, teeth and claw in the darkness behind. X6 comes alive in these shadows, slips among them as deadly as anything that dares cross him here.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a slightly older story I'm crossposting so I don't loose it to the depths of Tumblr. Written spring 2016.

The world is black. Endless tunnels, flickering lights in the darkness. Death beckoning the unwary closer, bidding them ignore the smell of rot and decay, teeth and claw in the darkness behind. X6 comes alive in these shadows, slips among them as deadly as anything that dares cross him here.

The world is purple. The only flowers that still grow are dark as a fresh bruise. Marks on your face, arms, legs. New ones take their place before the old have a chance to fade. Curie clucks over them, admonishes care.

The world is blue. The sky, when it is clear, is the most colorful thing for miles, stretching up and away, vast and endless. More weight that the ground, that bright expanse, like a person could float up into it if they just let go of the earth. Like Codsworth, hovering free above the dirt. What would happen if you grabbed hold of those arms of his and told him to just go, high, higher? Find out if it’s possible to reach the point where gravity just lets go, gives you over to the clouds.

The world is green. Not the green of living things. Sickly green, eerie glow perpetually lurking on the horizon. The northern lights come down to stalk the earth, left to stew in their anger until they come rolling up out of the south to smother the world. Radiation soup. Strong’s furious strength, MacCready swathing himself in the color of poison to warn the world away.

The world is yellow. Everywhere, everywhere, dead and dying and yellow. Dry dirt, struggling grass, faded fabric, fresh bones. Preston’s coat and Nick’s trench, worn and stained and still trying.

The world is orange. Fires burning in barrels of trash, smell of melting plastic, sullen light staving off the cold. Forges still burning, muzzle flash in the night, violence and fury. The bright banner of Cait’s hair, dusting of freckles across her skin, making from trash something bright and warm. This life is mine. I dare you come and take it.

The world is red. Caps rattling in pockets, blood spilling on barren earth, bandages wrapped over fresh wounds. Piper and Hancock, waving that color like a dare at the world, matador before a bull bigger and meaner than they could ever be. Somehow always dodging just fast enough to come alive out the other side.

The world is white. Hard to find in this wasteland, where everything is old, stained, hard. Hidden at the heart of things. Deacon and his little white lies. The Institute, sterile and cold. Bright center of fluorescent lights flickering in re-purposed houses. Stars in the night, still shining with stubborn tenacity, unchanged even now. Still here. Still here.


End file.
